


Change is for the Brave

by Chiyume



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dry Humping, First Kiss, First Time, Hotel Sex, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Pining Bucky Barnes, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiyume/pseuds/Chiyume
Summary: Steve and Bucky are back in England after the successful rescue mission of the 107th, and are now enjoying a hard earned weekend away from the military. They are sharing a hotel room, but even though they have a bed each, they still decide to stick a bit closer than that during the night, and what starts out as an innocent conversation between friends, soon turn into something much, much more... ¨





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyInSoulPunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyInSoulPunk/gifts).



> Beta by the wonderful and ever so glorious  
> [Nursedarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry) <3
> 
> Idea and Request made by my darling [prettyinsoulpunk](http://prettyinsoulpunk.tumblr.com/)! Sorry it took me so long, love, but here it is, at long last. I hope you enjoy it <3

* * *

_Sometimes change may not be what we want_

_Sometimes change is what we need_

* * *

  
  


“This has got to be the best idea you’ve ever had,” Bucky says, underlining his statement by pulling the covers off his hotel bed and tossing them onto the floor.

“That’s interesting,” Steve says with a smile as he does the same thing to his own bed, which is standing on the other side of the room. “I thought my best idea was when I had Howard Stark fly an airplane over enemy territory, just to bring your stupid ass back home.”

“All right, second best then,” Bucky admits with a shrug. Grunting, he tugs the mattress down from the bed and places it on the middle of the floor in between the two beds. “Still, when the military asked you what kind of reward you wanted, I didn’t expect ‘a vacation in Birmingham’ to be your first choice.”

“Well, I figured if I told them we wanted to stay in London, they would just have found an excuse to make us go back to work.” Steve nonchalantly tosses his mattress down next to Bucky’s, and Bucky watches him lean down to tuck the flapping sheets back underneath it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees while dumping the rest of his bedding on top of his own mattress.

It had been by mutual agreement, sleeping on the floor. They hadn’t even needed to discuss it beforehand. The moment they stepped inside the hotel room and spotted the big, empty space between the room’s two twin beds, the deal had been sealed. Steve had just started pulling at the covers of his bed, and Bucky had gotten the hint.

In a way, Bucky highly suspects that they would have ended up sleeping on the floor anyway, with or without mattresses.

After all, that’s the way they’ve always done it, ever since they were children. Bucky suspects that both he and Steve are probably too big to fit on a set of couch cushions nowadays, but the sentiment remains the same. Sleeping on the floor, as close together as possible, is oddly calming. It breaks a pattern – of what’s considered to be normal – and it relaxes the body and mind in a completely different way than what sleeping in a bed does.

Not to mention that neither of them find beds to be all that comfortable anymore. The springs are too soft and squishy, and for soldiers like themselves who are used to nothing but the ground, or maybe possibly wooden cots if they’re lucky, the floor feels a lot more comfortable.

Outside, the sky has long since gone dark. Of course, they can’t see it through the thick fabric of the curtains covering the windows of their room, due to the blackout that’s still in effect all over the city. Birmingham hasn’t been targeted by the Luftwaffe in almost three months, but the military prefers to be safe than sorry… Still, blackout or not, it’s late, and normally they would have gone to sleep hours ago. Then again, what’s the point of having a vacation if you can’t stay up late?

Bucky straightens up and perches his hands on his hips, appraising the results of their redecorating efforts.

“It’s a bit flatter than I remember,” he comments skeptically.

“That’s because the last time we did this, we were thirteen years old,” Steve informs him calmly. “That, and the fact that your parents’ couch had the fluffiest cushions I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees with a slight purse to his lips, “I guess that could be it.” He yawns and stretches. “So whaddaya say? Wanna call it a night?”

“Might as well,” Steve agrees. “We had a pretty long day.”

“Yeah, next time, I say we drive,” Bucky mutters. “That train station was absolutely horrible.”

“We _are_ still at war, Buck,” Steve reminds him politely. “People are evacuating all over the country.”

“I know,” Bucky says with a sigh as he begins to unbutton his shirt “It’s just… When you’ve been out there, I mean, coming back to civilization makes you feel as if everything should just automatically return to normal.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “I know what you mean…”

Bucky pulls his partially undone shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, before ridding himself of his shoes and slacks. Steve laughs when Bucky then throws himself down on top of the mattresses on the floor with a loud grunt, dressed only in his briefs and socks.

“Graceful,” Steve mocks, and in return, Bucky threatens to toss his left sock at Steve as he pulls it off his foot.

“You’re gonna sleep in all that?” Bucky asks with a pointed gesture towards Steve’s uniform, once his socks are both off. “You’re gonna die of a heat stroke.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the ceiling before shrugging his uniform jacket off his shoulders. Bucky watches from the corner of his eye as Steve slowly undresses, even though he knows that he really shouldn’t look.

It’s hard not to.

Steve’s body has changed. The scrawny little kid from Brooklyn that Bucky had known all his life is gone. Instead, the person standing in front of him now is a _man_ , and oh, what a man he is.

Unlike Bucky, Steve takes his time to remove his clothes, stopping in between each garment to fold it properly and put it down on the now-empty frame of his bed. The slow process leaves Bucky with an unobstructed view of the muscles that shift underneath Steve’s skin as he moves, and when Steve unbuckles the belt to his slacks to let them drop, Bucky has to turn away, feeling the back of his neck break out in a cold sweat at the sight.

He shouldn’t be watching. He and Steve are just friends, have been for a long time. Yet, even though they’ve seen each other in all kinds of different states of undress in the past, this is different. So _very_ different.

Bucky can’t even begin to count the times Steve had spent the night at his place back in Brooklyn. Doesn’t even want to begin to try and put a _number_ on the number of times Bucky himself had pretended to be asleep, just so that he could listen to the sound of Steve breathing in the dark by his side. Won’t allow himself to think of how many times he’d had to stop his own thoughts from going places a friend’s had no business going… Or how many times he’d failed to do just that.

Not to stare had been hard, even back then. Now, it’s downright impossible.

He doesn’t look back up until he hears Steve crawl down underneath the covers next to him, and when he does, he lets out a disbelieving snort through his nose.

“Really?” he says, nodding at the t-shirt still covering Steve’s torso. “You wanna sleep in a shirt?”

“What’s wrong with sleeping in a shirt?” Steve asks incredulously.

“How about _everything?_ ” Bucky groans. “C’mon, just looking at you in that thing makes me sweat, take it off.”

Steve gives Bucky a long, quizzical look, but when Bucky just points to his own naked chest in response, Steve sighs and moves to pull his shirt off.

Not surprisingly, seeing Steve without the shirt makes Bucky feel even warmer than seeing him with it on. Once Steve’s done with the process of folding the shirt away, Bucky is actually fully prepared to believe that he’s managed to run a fever.

“There,” Steve says. “Happy now?”

“As if you’re not,” Bucky counters sarcastically. “Just look at you. You’re telling me you don’t like showing all that off?”

“Not really,” Steve says, chuckling as he ducks his head down. “You know I get nervous when people stare at me.”

“Well, that’s gonna be a problem,” Bucky says, smirking confidence even though his stomach twists with nerves at what he hears himself say next, “because not staring at you is pretty difficult.”

Again, Steve laughs, and Bucky feels a little thrill rush through him when he sees the self-conscious blush that slowly creeps up Steve’s neck in response. Steve’s confidence has always been on the low side, and Bucky is thoroughly convinced that the poor guy wouldn’t recognize flirting even if it came up and gave him a knuckle sandwich to the face. Which means that Bucky can get away with saying – and doing – just about anything, and Steve will most likely assume that he’s just trying to be polite or friendly.

It’s this knowledge that’s always allowed Bucky to act a lot more relaxed and easygoing around his friend than how he actually feels, and given Steve’s response to his previous comment, Bucky decides that pushing things a little bit further probably won’t do any harm.

“So does that feel as firm as it looks?” Bucky asks as he experimentally pokes his index finger against Steve’s pectoral muscle, causing Steve to flinch in surprise at the unexpected touch. Steve’s skin is warm beneath the pad of Bucky’s finger, and even the brief contact is more than enough to send adrenaline rushing through Bucky’s veins. “Wow, that’s some serious muscle you’ve got there,” he marvels. “I bet your stamina is through the roof.”

“I _am_ capable of outrunning a car, if that’s what you mean,” Steve says pointedly.

“I’m not surprised, with legs like that,” Bucky says with a snort. “You’re probably able to run so fast, people will think you have three of them.” He pauses as a sudden, and perhaps slightly selfish thought strikes him. “Speaking of...” he adds lewdly, sending Steve a long, penetrative look. “Did _all_ of you grow from this super-soldier experiment, or just…selected parts?”

To underline his point, he raises a suggestive eyebrow, and Steve’s face promptly turns a furious shade of red.

“Oh, my god,” Bucky gapes. “Really? It got bigger too?” Without waiting for an answer, (or to give himself time to hesitate) he immediately reaches out and tugs the corner of Steve’s covers up, peeking underneath it.

“Buck!”

Bucky lets out a low, impressed whistle just as Steve yanks the covers back down. “Wow,” he grins. “God bless America…! Can you even fit your hand around that thing?”

“Shut up,” Steve orders, his stern tone completely ruined by the embarrassed snort that somehow finds its way into his voice.

“Given,” Bucky carries on, ignoring him, “you’re still in underwear, I didn’t get that much of a look, but, _seriously._ I mean, from what I saw, that thing should have its own uniform.”

“You’re a despicable person,” Steve grumbles. “And a nosy jerk, to boot.”

“Hey, what are best friends for?” Bucky says, grinning slyly as he flops down onto his pillow with both arms folded underneath his head. His heart is still thumping hard inside his chest, but the nervousness has somehow shifted into an euphoric sense of giddiness. It’s the feeling of butterflies and roller coasters mixed with passionate secrecy, and it’s downright addicting. Being close to Steve always makes that feeling spring to life, no matter how simple the interaction, and lying this close to each other, with so few clothes obstructing the view, the adrenaline it causes feels downright heavenly.

He’s pleased to note that Steve doesn’t appear to be all that upset with him, even though Bucky’s being more handsy than usual. Going by the pink tint still lingering on his cheeks and the smile on his lips, Bucky would say that Steve even looks a bit flattered by the attention.

For a moment, seeing him like this, Bucky thinks he looks just like _Steve_ again; the kid Bucky’s world had somehow ended up revolving around. Tiny, feisty, adorable Steve…

He bites his lower lip, gnawing on it with his teeth as he lets his gaze drop. He takes in the width of Steve’s shoulders, the volume of his chest and the bulk of his arms, and the affectionate heat inside his chest gives a sharp, yearning pulse. He may not be that tiny anymore, but Bucky knows that beneath all the new muscles and enhanced anatomy, he is still the same old Stevie. _Bucky’s_ Stevie…

“Does it feel different?” he asks softly, and Steve turns his head to look at him with a wary squint.

“Are we still talking about…?” He makes a vague gesture towards the lower part of his body, and Bucky laughs.

“In general,” he clarifies, and Steve’s posture relaxes slightly.

“In a way,” he admits with a shrug. “It was weird at first – being taller and all that. There are still moments where I forget that I’m not exactly five foot four anymore… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, really, but I guess it’s begun to feel a lot more like _my_ body now. Not like something I borrowed from someone else, like it did in the beginning. Sometimes,” he says, giving a light chuckle, “it even feels as if this is more me than what being me felt like before I changed. Does that makes sense?”

Bucky nods, because yes, it does. This new body really does seem to fit Steve a lot better. Steve has always been selfless, righteous, and too brave or dumb to realize that going into a fight will only serve to put him in harm's way. Sometimes, both. With his old body, all those things combined usually ended in black eyes, split lips and sprained wrists. The solid frame of Captain America, however, perfectly embodies all those qualities, and also provides Steve with the right kind of resources needed to handle those traits efficiently.

In that sense, Steve has always been a hero, and perhaps that’s the reason why Bucky has found himself falling so hard for him – super-soldier or not. Steven Grant Rogers. His best friend and personal disaster.

He looks down at his hands, picking at his nails.  

“I bet it must feel good, though,” he says. “I mean, looking like that, the dames gotta be all over you.”

He pretends not to feel the stab of jealousy that sentence brings to his heart, but when Steve’s only response it to laugh and shake his head at him, the stab turns into a mild prick of confusion.

“The dames are all over _Captain America_ ,” Steve corrects him gently. “Not me.”

“You don’t know that,” Bucky says with a quiet snort.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Steve insists.

“How?” Bucky challenges.

“Because in all the places I’ve been, and during all the performances I’ve given so far,” Steve says, “not a single one has bothered to ask me for my real name.”

Bucky blinks.

“Well…” he says slowly, “I mean, I’m not saying I’m an expert, but I think you can still have… _relations_ with someone without telling them your name.”

“I’m sure _you_ can,” Steve agrees, “but I don’t want to.”

“So…no girls for Captain America?”’ Bucky asks.

“No girls,” Steve confirms.

“Not even a little?”

“No,” Steve says, chuckling at the unabashed disbelief in Bucky’s voice. Meanwhile, Bucky’s brain is working on every possible cylinder to process the information he’s just been told.

“What about Carter?” he asks.

“ _Peggy?_ ” Steve laughs. “Listen, she’s beautiful, I’m not gonna lie, but she’s…” Steve trails off, searching for the right word to use. “She’s a professional,” he ends firmly. “Another time, another place, who knows? But while this war is still going on, she’s got far too much on her mind as it is. As do I.”

Bucky nods. Steve’s words brings back that prickling sense of jealousy once more, but he shakes it off. He’s got more pressing questions to deal with at the moment.

“So, have I understood this correctly?” he asks, sitting up. “You’re telling me you haven’t even _kissed_ anyone since you became Captain America?”

“Except on the cheek for photos, no,” Steve says earnestly. “I don’t think it’s worth wasting your first kiss on someone who doesn’t even care about you.”

“Wait, what?”

Steve looks up, but when he doesn’t say anything, Bucky lets out a disbelieving chuckle.

“ _First_ kiss?” he repeats, echoing Steve’s words.

“What about it?” Steve asks. There’s a frown of confusion marring his forehead, and Bucky’s jaw drops.

“No, no, you can’t be serious. Your _first kiss?_ ” Bucky prompts, voice rising even higher. “I mean, you’ve kissed girls before, haven’t you?”

“No, I haven’t,” Steve objects, but Bucky won’t have any of it.

“Steve, I was _there_ ,” he insists. “That time at the fair, when we met those two girls by the—”

“Yeah, I know, by the shooting gallery,” Steve cuts him off. “But you’re wrong, I never kissed her.”

“But I _saw_ you!” Bucky exclaims loudly. “If you weren’t kissing her, then what—?”

“I got something in my eye, and she helped me get it out,” Steve explains defensively. “There was no kissing.”

Bucky slumps down, staring at Steve with his mouth hanging open in bewildered daze. “Man,” he says, and he lets out a low chuckle when the explanation finally hits home. “I’m sorry, I thought— Wow…”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees under his breath. He’s embarrassed, Bucky can tell. “I just— I mean, technically, I could just go ahead and kiss the next person who happens to ask and get it over with, but…it’s not what I want. Not really.”

“Too bad,” Bucky says, “and here I was, trying to gather enough courage to offer myself up.”

“What?”

Bucky freezes. He had meant the comment as a joke, at least mostly, and he had been convinced that Steve would interpret it as such, like he always does. Instead, when Bucky looks up to meet with Steve’s gaze, Steve is staring at him with eyes wide in shock, and Bucky feels his throat run dry.

“I mean,” he starts, barely avoiding stuttering as his mouth starts moving before his brain has had any chance to catch up with it. “You said you wanted your first kiss to be with someone who cares about you, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “but I—”

“ _I_ care about you,” Bucky insists, firmer now and less jokingly. “I mean, I’ve known you long before you went and volunteered to be a guinea pig in some crazy military experiment. I know exactly who you are, and what a little punk you can be. If you want someone who cares about you for _you,_ rather than that star-spangled suit of yours, then let’s face it, I’m your best bet.”

Steve swallows, the bob in his throat nearly audible. Then he looks away, and Bucky’s heart drops. Damnit, he should have kept his mouth shut…!

“So…you’re saying you’re volunteering to kiss me?” Steve asks suddenly. He sounds confused, as if he’s having trouble grasping the concept of the offer. He doesn’t sound appalled or disgusted. Just…surprised. It’s enough to make Bucky look back up again, and as he does, Steve meets his gaze head-on without hesitation.

His eyes are soft, and Bucky can feel the tension drain away from his body when an unexpected rush of courage blooms up inside his chest at the sight of them.

“Yeah,” he says simply. “I guess I am.”

There’s a momentary silence, and then Steve gives a short, cynical laugh. When Bucky’s response is to remain quiet, however, Steve’s smile slowly fades.

“You’re actually serious, aren’t you?” he asks, as if in challenge, and Bucky straightens up with an offended huff.

“What?” he argues defensively. “You think I’m a bad kisser or something?”

“No,” Steve counters. “No, not at all, I just—”

“C’mon,” Bucky groans, quickly regaining his footing as he slips back into his ordinary, confident role once more. His hands are practically shaking with trepidation, but he does his best to hide it by waving them around nonchalantly as he continues, “Girls teach each other to do it all the time.”

“Yeah, but they’re _girls,_ ” Steve argues.

“So?” Bucky says with an uncaring shrug. “I’ve seen grown men do more girly things in the Army than I did back in art school. And they had anatomy sessions with nothing but naked fellas posing together on a table for an entire afternoon.”

Steve laughs, amused by the mental image of Bucky’s argument. Then he clears his throat, licking his lips slowly.

“Will you…” Bucky holds his breath when Steve stops, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Will you talk me through it?”

“Sure,” Bucky says reassuringly, shrugging as if it’s not that big of a deal. How he manages to sound so calm is something he’ll never understand, because his insides are trembling so hard he feels as if he’s about to shake right out of his skin.

Steve nods. He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw keeps on clenching as if he’s struggling to keep a straight face. His shoulders are tense, defensively squared, and Bucky can tell that he’s nervous too. He’s just not as good at hiding it as Bucky is.

“Okay then,” Bucky says, twisting his body to the side so that he’s fully turned towards Steve. “But you’re gonna need to sit up taller for this to work.”

Steve nods again, and does as he’s told. His movements are twitchy, and for some reason it sort of looks as if he’s trying to make himself look smaller where he is, huddled up on his mattress with the covers pooling around his waist..

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Bucky reminds him. “This is gonna be some lousy first kiss if you end up passing out before we even get started.”

At that, Steve exhales sharply, as if Bucky’s words just had him realize that he was actually holding his breath, and Bucky laughs. Steve gives another sheepish smile, and just like that, the tension in the room drains away a little.

“All right, this part is simple,” Bucky says. “Just relax and tilt your head a bit to the side.”

Steve obediently tips his head, and Bucky fails to hold back an amused smile as he puts a hand on Steve’s jaw to push his head back into a slightly more upright position.

“There,” he says softly. “Now part your lips. Just a little.”

Steve does, and Bucky licks his own lips, which are suddenly feeling bone dry. Shifting his weight, he adjusts his position on the mattress until he’s kneeling down in front of Steve, and as he reaches up to place his other hand against Steve’s cheek, he can feel his stomach make a nervous lurch inside his body. Suddenly, he’s not just nervous, but _scared_ . What if he screws this up? What if he does it wrong? What if he does it _right_ and Steve still won’t like it?

“You can close your eyes if you want to,” he offers, and Steve nods. He doesn’t close his eyes, though, and Bucky swallows hard.

He leans in slowly, giving Steve plenty of time to object or change his mind, should he want to. Gently, he brushes his mouth against Steve's own, taking a moment to test out the feel of it and mentally ground himself, before pressing in closer.

As he does, he both hears and feels Steve’s breath hitch, and then hold.

“Breathe,” Bucky murmurs softly, and Steve immediately lets out a rush of air through his nose as he exhales into the kiss.

It’s soft and gentle, almost chaste. Bucky probably lingers on it for a moment longer than he should, reluctant to end it so soon, but eventually he pulls back, just slightly. As he does, he lets go of Steve's face with his left hand to brace himself against the mattress as a sudden wave of lightheadedness threatens to overwhelm him. When he finally dares to open his eyes, he finds that Steve's are still firmly closed.

“That’s one way to do it,” he mumbles, and Steve nods, swallowing hard. They’re close, so close that Bucky can feel the heat of Steve’s breath ghost across his lips. Steve is trembling, and his pulse is racing beneath the pads of Bucky's fingers where they rest against the other man’s jaw line.

“Then…” Bucky continues softly, “there’s the European way… The way they do it in France.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, the word barely audible.

“You want me to show you?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah.” Steve's head moves in a quick, frantic nod. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“All right…”

Once again, Bucky leans in to press his lips against Steve’s, and then he pulls back, just to create enough space to talk. “Part your lips a bit more,” he instructs gently.

Steve does, and this time when Bucky moves forward, he lets his tongue slip inside the opening of Steve's mouth. Just a quick, shallow swipe, and Steve’s breath stutters with such force Bucky can practically feel it inside his own chest.

“Like that,” Bucky breathes. “Now you try it.”

Steve hesitates, but only for a moment, and when Bucky feels the wet heat of Steve's tongue lick against his lower lip, the fingers of his left hand curl hard into the sheets below. His breath is shaky, and when he lets his own tongue brush against Steve's, Steve lets out a noise that sounds like a mix between a sigh, a gasp, and a groan, all and once.

Bucky tenses when Steve shoots his right hand up to clutch around Bucky’s neck, but Steve doesn't push him away. He doesn't pull him in, either. He just holds, and Bucky takes that as a good sign, and relaxes once again.

They make out. Slowly. Softly. The sound of their breathing fills up the space between them, and the next time Steve moans, Bucky echoes him. Bucky’s hands slip from Steve’s jaw as he lets his fingers trail down the other man's naked chest. Steve shudders at the contact, and Bucky marvels at the rapid pace of Steve's heartbeat as it shakes like thunder against the palm of his hand.  

The hand still gripping around the side of Bucky's neck is trembling, and the tremors rapidly multiply their way through Steve's body like a wildfire. Bucky can feel the way he shakes, knowing that he's probably not doing much better himself, and the thought is nearly enough to send his mind reeling. Steve is _enjoying_ this. Enjoying having Bucky's lips on his, his tongue in Steve's mouth. And Bucky… Oh, Bucky _loves_ it.

So many times has he dreamt of this, of Steve's body beneath his, against him. Steve's breath in his lungs, his hands on his skin. Oh, god, he has to be dreaming, this can't be happening…!

He deepens the kiss, the euphoria erasing his nerves completely, and the twitch of Steve's fingers against his skin is almost enough to make him grin when Steve lets out a surprised, albeit pleased, groan in return.

Bucky shifts his weight, draping himself over Steve and pushing him back, down against the mattress, and Steve lets him. However, as he does, Bucky feels the erection he hadn't even been aware of having rub up against the thick muscle of Steve's thigh through the fabric of the covers. He gasps, loudly, and beneath him, Steve goes rigid.

Shit.

Bucky tries to jerk back as the reality of the situation makes the panic stir to life inside his chest, but he doesn't get very far.

“Don’t stop…!” Steve pants against his mouth as he tightens his grip around the back of Bucky's neck to keep him in place. “Please, Buck, don— Please, please, don't stop…”

Steve's breath is hot, warm, and moist as it flows over the spit-slicked surface of Bucky's lips, and Jesus Christ, Bucky barely dares to breathe. His pulse is racing, limbs quaking, and Steve's eyes are still closed as if in agony – or overwhelming pleasure.

Bucky is scared out of his mind, and at the same time so horribly turned on he doesn't even know what to do with himself. Steve _wants_ this, and fuck it, Bucky doesn't want to stop.

Slowly, he lowers his body back down to roll his hips against Steve's through the covers. As he does, Steve tips his head back into the pillow, moaning as his fingers slip from around Bucky’s shoulders to palm at his chest, before sliding around to splay wide over the side of Bucky’s ribs.

Bucky grinds down, harder, and when Steve responds with thrusting his own hips up to meet him, Bucky buries his face against the top of Steve's shoulder with a breathless moan. The gentle touch of Steve’s fingers against his cheek urges him back up almost immediately, however, and this time it’s not Bucky who has to move forward in order for their lips to meet.

Steve is a quick learner. He pushes against Bucky’s mouth, tongue slipping past the seam of their lips to drag wicked swipes of wet heat against Bucky’s own, breathing rapid and shallow as his hips stutter against the weight of Bucky’s body.

Bucky moans when Steve moves his hand to drag its fingers through the hair at the back of his head, blunt fingernails scratching against Bucky’s scalp. The touch sends a pleasurable chill rushing down his spine, which in turn causes his entire body to spasm and the breath to catch in the back of his throat.

God, he wants to touch so bad. Wants to feel the warmth of Steve’s body press against his skin until the heat grows fervent enough to make him catch on fire. He pulls back, and Steve chases after him in an attempt to keep the kiss going, but Bucky stops him with a firm push against his shoulder.

For a brief moment, Steve’s eyes flutter open, and he opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something. Bucky kisses him before he has the chance, and then continues kissing him as he moves his lips down to drag along Steve’s jaw line, sucking at his throat. Steve lets out a strangled gasp when Bucky scrapes his teeth over the frantic beat of Steve’s pulse, and even though Bucky can tell that he’s trying, Steve just doesn’t seem capable of staying quiet.

The sound of his panting and groans fills Bucky’s ears while he works his way down Steve’s chest. The bitten back moans quickly morph into high pitched whimpers when Bucky slides the tip of his tongue over Steve’s nipples, softly, one by one.

The hand against Bucky’s ribs shoots down when Steve clutches for the covers, and Bucky uses his newly gained mobility to slide even further down Steve’s body. He brings his left hand up to trail his fingers along his ribs and stomach, and Steve jerks, abs tightening beneath the touch.

Bucky can feel the insistent pressure of Steve’s erection push against the side of his ribcage from underneath the covers, and it’s a sensation that makes him feel both hot and cold at the same time. The nervousness is still there, even as he moves to pull the covers away, and a tiny little voice in the back of his head is telling him to wait, to take it slow, feeling as if things are moving way too fast.

Bucky doesn’t listen. Doesn't want to. Instead, he watches as both of Steve’s hands fist amongst the sheets, white knuckled and tense, as Bucky pushes the covers aside to reveal the wet patch blooming at the front of Steve's underwear.

The sight has Bucky twitching inside his own briefs. God bless America, indeed…  

When Bucky brushes the tip of his fingers against the moist garment, Steve moans and pushes the side of his face down into the pillow. Bucky pauses.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, and Steve nods, biting his lower lip while thrusting his hips up against Bucky’s hand, pleading wordlessly. Really, how can Bucky possibly say no? He wraps his fingers around the length through the fabric, rubbing slowly, and Steve sighs while pushing his head further into the pillow as if he’s trying to ground himself. His fingers twitch and the muscles of his abs keep clenching, and Bucky can’t help but take pity on him where he’s lying.

“Hey,” he breathes, abandoning his work in order to lie down on his own mattress. “C’mere…” He tugs at Steve’s wrist, gesturing for Steve to come lie down on top of him.

For a moment, Steve looks confused by the request, but then he appears to get the hang of the idea.

Bucky fights not to move when Steve straddles his thighs, even though the heavy weight of Steve’s clothed cock brushing against his own has him trembling something furiously.

“Your pace,” he whispers simply, and Steve nods, and then opens his mouth. He looks at Bucky as if he's going to say something, but then he just leans down, and they’re kissing again.

It's slow and tender, and just on the right side of torturous to make Bucky crave more. At first, Steve seems completely happy to stay like that, but Bucky can tell that he's really just trying to hold back.

It's the little things, Bucky decides. He has known Steve for so long, and despite this new body of his, there are still some things about a person that never changes. Like now, when Steve's fingers curl into the pillow next to Bucky's head, clenching hard for a few moments before letting go, only to repeat the process less than five seconds later. Or the way his breath keeps catching every time Bucky moves his tongue into the kiss _just so_.

Steve is dying to move, and Bucky honestly tries his best to wait for him to do so, but after almost five minutes of passionate kissing and no touching whatsoever, he simply can't take it anymore.

He rolls his hips up, unable to stop himself, and winding his arms around Steve’s waist to pull him down, he uses his own body to demonstrate what he wants them to do.

“Move with me,” he pants, pushing his hips up. “C’mon, Stevie… Like this.”

Steve takes the hint and grinds down, punching a moan out of Bucky’s lungs. The sound of Bucky's voice – loud and unrestricted – seems to do the trick, because suddenly Steve’s hand is on the back of Bucky’s right thigh, lifting it higher to give him even more leverage to thrust down.

“Shit…!” Bucky chokes back another breathless groan when Steve starts to rut against him, pushing them together to rub over each other through their underwear. It’s hot, and needy, and Bucky hooks his ankles around the back of Steve’s thighs just to get closer, to get _more_.

Bucky's sweating. He can feel the beads roll down the nape of his neck as he struggles to find a rhythm, but it's still not enough. There's a tingle at the base of his spine which grows increasingly insistent with each enticing roll of Steve's pelvis, and Bucky wants— He _needs…_

Steve is steadily picking up the pace, grinding and thrusting down while bracing himself on his elbows as he continues to press hungry kisses against Bucky’s lips and jaw, and Bucky's skin feels so hot he's surprised he hasn't scorched a hole right through the sheets yet.

A particularly hard thrust has Bucky throwing his head back against the pillow, and Steve goes slack jawed against his neck, moaning into his ear.

“Oh, god…” Steve whines. “Oh, god, Buck... “

Bucky hums, feeling the fabric of his underwear grow damp with precome from the desperate awe in Steve’s voice.

“Yeah,” he pants. “Yeah, that’s it. Jesus Christ, Steve, don’t stop…”

Steve nods, and Bucky feels Steve’s fingers move to tangle in the hair at the top of his head. The touch has him moaning, and white hot fire bursts through his veins in a wave of ecstasy when Steve curls his fingers even tighter.

“Steve…” he chokes. “Oh, god, Steve…!”

Steve nods again, and Bucky just barely has enough time to hear the primal growl that claws its way out of Steve’s throat as Steve shoves his pelvis down one final time, before his entire body grows taut.

Bucky comes. He comes so hard, for a moment he's afraid that he’s going to black out, and he clings to Steve for all he’s worth while the orgasm quakes through his limbs. Steve buries another breathless growl against the side of Bucky’s neck, hips thrusting lazily in the afterglow as he slowly comes back down, and Bucky‘s head is swimming in euphoria when they eventually grow still.

For a moment, everything is quiet. Their breathing is the only sound still audible, but with each second passing, a tension appears to creep its way into the silence, and when Bucky shifts, he feels Steve’s body instantly go rigid against his.

“Bucky…?”

Steve’s voice is low, slightly shaky as Bucky’s name leaves his mouth, and Bucky feels his heart freeze.

“Yeah?” he answers. He tries to sound calm, but there’s a panic rising inside his chest that he can’t stop, and oh, god, what is going on?

“What—” Steve cuts himself off, swallowing audibly next to Bucky’s ear. “What happened just now?”

That is not a good question. That is a question filled with doubt, with fear, and Bucky has to force his nerves into submission before he can even bring himself to think about what to answer. This is a crossroads, and his response has the potential of saving, or ruining whatever is about to happen here.

“I…guess that depends,” he whispers.

“On what?”

“On you.”

Steve falls silent. He still hasn’t moved, and Bucky holds his breath.

“How?” Steve asks, after what feels like a million years.

“Well…” Bucky clears his throat, searching for the words. “There’s always a choice. I mean, we could…forget this ever happened, for instance. Blame it on stress, or temporary confusion, and then never speak of it again…”

“Or?” Steve prompts. His voice sounds grim, and Bucky swallows hard.

“Or,” he says slowly, “I could tell you the truth, if you—”

“The truth then,” Steve choses, seemingly without as much as a second though.

“It’s complicated,” Bucky squirms, “you might not—”

“The _truth_ , Buck.”

There is no use arguing against that voice, and Bucky sighs, closing his eyes.

“The truth,” he beings, “is that—” Fuck, this is much harder than what it should be, and Bucky swallows, bracing himself for the plunge. “I guess, I sort of— I guess I love you.”

The silence that follows is deafening, and Bucky has no idea what’s going on. Steve is quiet, for the longest time, and Bucky can’t help but feel horribly aware of the fact that they’re still lying entwined amongst the sheets with body fluids sticking to their underwear. He’s convinced that Steve can both hear and feel the way his heart is beating against his ribcage, but he doesn’t dare move.

“You’re saying,” Steve says, his voice way too loud in the silence of the room, “that you love me like…a girl?”

Bucky’s first reaction is to say no. No, not like a girl, that's not it! Yet, at the same time, he knows that is sort of is. He doesn’t love Steve as just a friend. A friend doesn’t think of another friend the same way Bucky thinks of Steve. A friend doesn’t look at someone and daydream about what it would be like to lean in and kiss them on the lips, touch their skin…and more.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he murmurs eventually. “I just know that I do.”

Steve’s chest and shoulders rise in a heavy sigh as the other shakes his head, and his hair tickles the side of Bucky’s neck.

“I never— I didn’t even think—” Another deep exhale rushes past Bucky’s skin. “For how long?”

“A long time,” Bucky admits, but when Steve doesn’t answer, he adds, “For the past two years, at least. Since before I shipped out… ”

That, for some reason, has Steve moving, and Bucky watches with growing fear as Steve pushes himself up into a sitting position to stare down at him.

“ _Before_ you shipped out?” he asks grimly, and the tone of his voice has the blood freezing in Bucky’s veins. Dear god, he’s never been this terrified in his entire life. He can’t even bring himself to answer, so instead, he just nods. Steve’s shoulders slumps as he looks away with another slow shake to his head.

“I can’t believe—”

“Steve,” Bucky tries, “I didn’t want to say anything—”

“ _I can’t believe_ ,” Steve repeats, even louder, “that you actually left me behind without telling me that.”

What?

Bucky blinks, snapping his mouth shut. Steve must see the confusion on his face, because the next sigh that leaves his mouth is even heavier than the first.

“You almost died,” he says pointedly. “If I hadn’t come to get you back in Azzano, you could have been dead by now, or worse. And you were just— You were just _never_ gonna tell me?”

“What, so that I could completely ruin our friendship before heading out to the Front?” Bucky says with a sarcastic snort. “So that you could become so disgusted with me that you’d never want me to come back? Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

“I’d never do that,” Steve grits out sternly. “Not to you.”

“Right,” Bucky grates. “Because you’re so comfortable with having me following you around like some lovesick puppy.”

Something in Steve’s face shifts at that, and the sharp gleam in his eyes appears to melt away.

“I’m not gonna pretend it’s not a surprise,” he says slowly, and Bucky looks away.

He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to look at Steve when the rejection comes. He’s so prepared for it, that the touch of Steve’s hand against the side of his face sends his entire body flinching. Then, Steve uses the touch to gently turns his head back to look at him.

“It’s a surprise,” he repeats. “but not the unpleasant kind.”

Steve looks down at him, and Bucky stares right back. He doesn’t get it. _Can’t_ get it, the thought is just too huge.

“You—” The rest of the sentence dies before he can form it properly, and so he tries again. “You mean… You're saying that you’re—”

“I am,” is all Steve says, and for approximately three and a half seconds, Bucky’s brain shuts down completely.

“So…you're not angry, then?” he manages, eventually.

“Not angry,” Steve agrees. There’s a faint smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, and even though he knows that he should be absolutely beside himself with relief, Bucky still can’t bring his mind to function.

“Huh…” is all he says, feeling as if his entire body has grown numb. It’s not until Steve leans down to press another, soft, and nearly shy kiss against his lips, that reality kicks in. The paralysis melts away from his limbs like ice in springtime, and Jesus… _Jesus…!_

Steve barely has the chance to react, and he’s probably only saved by the fact that his super-soldier abilities gives him enough time to brace himself, because just like that, he’s got his arms full of Bucky, who’s kissing him as if he’d downright die should he be forced to stop.

“All right,” Steve says, laughing into the kiss, “Buck, it’s okay, calm down.”

“Never,” Bucky growls, causing Steve to laugh again before finally reciprocating. It takes a while, but eventually, the frantic pace slows down, until it’s just a soft press of lips and happy little sighs of content being breathed out in the space between them.

“Better?” Steve whispers, still smiling as he dares to pull back far enough to look Bucky in the eye, and Bucky nods, grinning back at him.

“Much,” he agrees. “Although, I think we should probably get ourselves cleaned up a little,” he adds, pointedly shifting his hips beneath the weight of Steve's body.

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” Steve concurs, making a toss with his head towards the other side of the room. “There’s a tub in the bathroom, I checked.”

“Oh, thank god,” Bucky groans. “It would have been a very awkward walk if we had to use some sort of shared bath down the hall or something.”

At that, Steve just laughs, and even though he knows that they technically just agreed to do so, Bucky can’t help but feel a slight stab of loss when Steve then proceeds to climb off of him to stand up next to the mattress.

It's a sensation that quickly disappears when Steve reaches down to help Bucky onto his feet, and together they make their way towards the door leading into the bathroom.

Bucky follows close behind as Steve steps through the door, and suddenly, a thought strikes him.

“Not to pry or anything,” he says as Steve bends down to turn on the tap in the bathtub. “I mean, we haven’t really had time to talk about it, but… Suppose you should get…an _offer_ from someone else, like, let’s say a girl…?”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, turning back to look at him with an eyebrow curiously raised.

“Would you take it?” Bucky asks.

For what feels like forever, Steve just looks at him, and Bucky holds his breath. Then Steve’s right there, grabbing around his wrist, pulling him close.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he says firmly. Then he chuckles, almost to himself. “I’ve spent nearly half my life waiting for you. You really think I’d waste that on some random girl?”

It takes a moment. And then Bucky leans back, staring up at Steve's face.

“Half your life?” he asks slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles.

“But I thought— What about the dates?” Bucky gapes. “All the girls I made you talk to?”

“Keeping up appearance,” Steve answers simply, before adding, “just like you, I suppose.”

Bucky nods, and Steve looks at him. Then he smiles – a secretive little smile.

“You’re not the only one who signed up for male anatomy classes in art school, you know…” he says cryptically, and at that, Bucky can't help but laugh. In turn, Steve squeezes his hand, once, before letting it go with a toss of his head towards the bathtub.

“Now, c’mon,” he says, “Get in there, before you begin to crust.”

“You really think we can both fit in that at the same time?” Bucky asks with a skeptic look at the bathtub.

“Sure we can,” Steve assures him. “And while we wait for the water to fill up, I was thinking you could run me through that whole kissing thing one more time. I think I got a bit distracted earlier.”

“Did you, now?” Bucky says with a suggestive glance up and down Steve’s body before shrugging. “I suppose I could do that,” he says nonchalantly. “As long as you promise to pay attention this time.”

“Oh, I’m gonna pay attention, all right,” Steve purrs.

Yup, Bucky decides, that tub better be able to hold them both, because this will without a doubt end up the longest, most intense bathing session in the whole of English hotel history.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, darlings <3  
> Feel free to let me know what you thought of it, and for those of you who want to talk more I'm also on [Tumblr](http://chiyume.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chiyume87).  
> I respond to all messages, and I love talking to people, so don't hesitate to write me <3 
> 
> Take care, sweeties!


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